


Steel My Heart

by haraamis, kedriaa



Series: Chantry Secrets [2]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Chantry Sex, Dragon Age Kink Meme, Kink Meme, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 12:41:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2388578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haraamis/pseuds/haraamis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kedriaa/pseuds/kedriaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suffering from a crisis of conscience, Sebastian goes into seclusion, only to find that no place is sacred where a certain mage is concerned...</p>
<p>Original DA Kink prompt - http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/9086.html?thread=36486014</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steel My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Gratitude to my fabulous beta, haraamis!

_"The one who repents, who has faith,_   
_Unshaken by the darkness of the world,_   
_She shall know true peace."_

Sebastian recited quietly as he knelt before the statue of Andraste, fervently drawing the grace of the Maker and His Bride into his own troubled mind. Yet, as he murmured the verses, he could not find the customary solace that they had once brought him.

It had been six weeks since the First Day celebrations, or to put it more aptly, six weeks since he had taken confession. In the days following his... encounter with a certain mage, Sebastian had busied himself with the preparations of the First Day celebrations. While it had been an adequate distraction, alas, it had not lasted. Once he had returned to the daily monotony of his routine, he found himself being plagued by guilty thoughts and salacious yearnings in equal measure.

To make matters worse, he felt that he could not bring himself to confess his sins to gain absolution. As a matter of fact, Sebastian doubted he could ever enter a confessional box again. His burden had weighed heavily upon him for nearly two weeks before the Grand Cleric had noticed his dysphoria. Thankfully, she had not pried but merely suggested that a time of solitude could perhaps alleviate his inner turmoil. 

Sebastian had thanked her profusely and went into seclusion that very same day. It was the perfect solution; not only did it offer him the time to reflect and repent his sins, it gave him the perfect excuse to not see Hawke, and in doing so, not see a certain mage either. 

Four weeks in the cloister later – four weeks of reciting the Chant, four weeks of fasting and repentance – it had all come to nothing. No matter what he did, he could not banish his demons. Whenever he closed his eyes, he could picture with startling clarity a pair of smouldering amber eyes, a mane of sun-streaked hair and a wicked, wicked mouth around his cock. Every time he laid down to sleep, he could feel the searing touch of teasing hands upon his body. Even as he knelt before the Bride of the Maker, Her holy Chant tumbling ceaselessly from his lips, he could feel the heat rising in his body at the very thought of a certain mage. 

Sebastian sighed in defeat and the muttered, "Bless me, Maker, for I have sinned."

"You needn't address me as such," a voice, uncomfortably familiar, replied cheekily.

Sebastian squeaked, his head snapped around to look at the person who had intruded upon his solitude. "And—" he began but was swiftly silenced by two fingers over his lips.

"Hush now, Brother Sebastian," Anders purred silkily, "Surely you wouldn't want to alert anyone of my presence?"

Sebastian slapped Anders' hand aside and scowled. "Hiding from Hawke again?" He asked waspishly as he eyed Anders' undoubtedly stolen Chantry robes. He also tried not to stare; Anders often donned mage's robes, so why would wearing Chantry ones make him look any more attractive? It was ridiculous, he scoffed at himself. 

The other man chuckled quietly. "Isn't it, in fact, you who is hiding, no?" He retorted and smirked as he made himself comfortable on the pew beside Sebastian. "No one has seen neither hide nor hair of you for over a month; Hawke was worried that some assassin stragglers might have jumped you. So I came to check in on you."

Sebastian turned back to face the statue of Andraste, his back rigid, his voice as dismissive as he could muster, "Your concern is touching, please convey my appreciation to Hawke as well. This, however, is a cloister and as such, outsiders are not permitted in here."

"Apart from the penitent, outsiders are not permitted in the confessional box, either," Anders leaned forward to whisper into Sebastian's ear. "You didn't seem to mind so much then."

Sebastian shivered. Frozen by fear and transfixed by Anders' close proximity, Sebastian did the only thing he could think of – he continued to recite the Canticles of Transfigurations.

_"O Maker, hear my cry:  
Guide me through the blackest nights..."_

Instead of banishing the demon-made-flesh that was Anders, though, it urged him on. Anders purred, purred like a cat before licking the shell of Sebastian's ear with great tenderness. The lick was followed by kisses and more nips and laps on his cheek, his jaw and his neck; and, Maker forgive him, he could not help but tilt his head to grant Anders greater access. 

"Keep chanting," Anders instructed and Sebastian obeyed. 

_"Steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked  
Make me to rest in the warmest places."_

By then, Anders had seated himself behind Sebastian, one of his hands down the front of Sebastian's robe. Once again, Anders' hand felt curiously warm and it only served to inflame Sebastian's own passion, as shameful as it was. When he felt the pinch on his nipple, the words upon his tongue faltered, and Anders chuckled, entirely too pleased with himself. 

Sebastian was torn; this was sacrilegious, he had no right conducting such a profane act in a holy place. Especially not with Andraste looking down upon him, her stony eyes disapproving. And yet, despite the immorality of the situation, he could not bring himself to stop Anders. On the contrary, his wickedness welcomed it.

To his own horror, he let out an obscene moan when Anders caressed his half-hard cock over his robes. Anders hissed in reply, or perhaps he verbalised his encouragement but Sebastian did not hear. He did not want to hear, thus he filled his ears with more chants.

_"O Creator, see me kneel:  
For I walk only where You would bid me..."_

Even as he chanted, he found himself leaning into Anders' grip. He resisted, oh, how he tried, but his carnal lust would not be silenced and the flesh was weak. Sebastian turned to capture a hungry kiss from Anders. Anders' touch, his scent, his taste, they all electrified Sebastian and filled the oft-denied hunger of his soul. 

Maker, he wanted more.

_"Stand only in places You have blessed  
Sing only the words You place in my throat."_

Sebastian panted as he leaned back into Anders. With his back now flush against the length of Anders' upper body, Sebastian was silently thrilled to find Anders fully erect. He teasingly ground his hip into Anders cock, eliciting a sharp intake of breath. No doubt taking Sebastian's bold overture as an invitation, Anders hitched the skirt of Sebastian's robes up to his hips and then pulled his small clothes down to his knees.

_"My Maker, know my heart  
Take from me a life of sorrow..."_

The words of the Canticles continued to tumble from his lips unbidden, but it was Anders' actions that had Sebastian enthralled. He did not question where the warm, fragrant oil came from – which smelled like the consecrated oil the Chantry used – only that it felt soothing and calm as Anders anointed him generously.

_"Lift me from a world of pain  
Judge me worthy of Your endless pride."_

In spite of appearing the straight shooter, Sebastian was no stranger to bedding men. In fact, it was a guilty pleasure he had kept close to his chest; even during his time of depravity and debauchery, all his trysts with men were conducted behind closed doors. Thus, when Anders slid a finger in, Sebastian moaned gratuitously as he was reminded sharply of the pleasures in life that he had missed. Oh, how he had missed them.

_"My Creator, judge me whole:  
Find me well within Your grace..."_

The dexterity and the wickedness of Anders' fingers, around and within, very nearly became his undoing; but Anders apparently had other plans as he moved to grasp Sebastian's hips instead and guided the latter up onto his lap. Sebastian shuddered, feeling the other man's cock pressing hard against him – a wordless, eager appeal for union.

_"Touch me with fire that I be cleansed  
Tell me I have sung to Your approval."_

Sebastian's chant wavered even as he eased Anders into him, savouring the dichotomy of pain and pleasure of the initial entry. It had been many years, but even so, his traitorous, lecherous body took Anders in to the hilt, eliciting a breathless moan from the latter. With hands on the pew front, feet anchored upon the kneeler, Sebastian began to rock, slowly, tentatively at first, enjoying the slow burn of the friction of Anders' cock within, but soon he became ravenous for more, and he pumped his hips in longer, faster strokes that sent him soaring.

_"O Maker, hear my cry:  
Seat me by Your side in death..."_

Sebastian had thought that Anders would be content to let Sebastian ride them to completion when the other suddenly hooked an arm around Sebastian, rose to his feet and bent them over the pew front. Anders held fast onto Sebastian and began thrusting – slick, staccato, and at an angle that sent sparks across Sebastian's vision.

_"Make me one within Your glory  
And let the world once more see Your favour."_

Anders' ragged moans and Sebastian's quavering voice were punctuated by the rhythmic creaks of the pew front that reverberated in the small chapel, the heady mix of fragrant oil and musky sweat permeated the air, and the stony voyeur that was Andraste all added layers of voluptuousness to Sebastian's heightened senses. Anders was unrestrained and masterful, and with each stroke, with each thrust, he would take Sebastian ever closer to the zenith. Anders' hand found his way once more to Sebastian's achingly full cock, and all it took was two more tugs to send Sebastian reeling in the all-encompassing rapture of their mutual consummation. Through all his years of debauchery, Sebastian had not experienced such absolute completion. 

_"For You are the fire at the heart of the world  
And comfort is only Yours to give."_

They remained immobile, bowed over the pew front in grotesque genuflection to the chaste Bride of the Maker. Sebastian felt his cheeks flush when he realised that he had left a rather inappropriate offering at her feet. He heard Anders chuckle as if having read his mind. 

Anders withdrew, and all Sebastian could do was sink to his knees, feeling exhausted and gratified, and a little contrite. Surprisingly, Anders then leaned forward once more to cup Sebastian's cheek with one hand and capture his lips in a kiss so tender and heartfelt that Sebastian was inclined to think that this might be an occurrence destined to repeat itself. While he was quite ambivalent about that realisation, he, nevertheless, returned the kiss with equal sentiment. As he did, heat blossomed in his chest, and Sebastian knew then that something had irrevocably changed.

"Once again, you've been very accommodating, Brother Sebastian," Anders said as he straightened with a last affectionate brush of thumb against Sebastian's cheek bone that belied his flippant words. Nevertheless, as he righted his robes, Anders had that absolutely infuriating rakish smile upon his lips again. "I shall convey your appreciation, and well-being to Hawke," and with that, Anders retreated from the chapel on silent feet.

 

~FIN~


End file.
